


The Humans Thought It Up Themselves (Nearly)

by redcurlzbychoice



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crack, Crowley is just enough of a vile demon to be worth knowing (and loving), Established Relationship, Fluff, Four Seasons Total Landscaping AU, Ineffable Reality AU, M/M, Reality offers the best crack stories sometimes, There‘s A Book Shop Next To It!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcurlzbychoice/pseuds/redcurlzbychoice
Summary: A Good Omens version based on the now notorious events of the ‘big press conference’ that happened to take place on Nov 7th in the parking lot of ‘Four Seasons Total Landscaping’ (Philadelphia, USA), between a crematorium and an adult book store.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	The Humans Thought It Up Themselves (Nearly)

**Author's Note:**

> I just had to write this. When reality offers a perfect GO setting, my mind makes up stories.
> 
> I just want to point out this story is completely and utterly based on scarce facts provided in the media and my own imagination.  
> No resemblance with living or dead people is or was intended, and is therefore utterly coincidental, except for basic information on the people who push themselves into the media by any means and offer information about themselves freely anyway.

“What _is_ this mayhem going on over there? It’s Saturday, are they to re-scape the whole of Philadelphia today?”  
Aziraphale had opened the door of the shop and eyed in wonder the turmoil of pick-ups, black vans and scurrying people in the parking lot next to the book shop they had taken up residence in for the duration of the 2020 US election.

It had been Crowley’s idea, of course, to hop over, to witness in person (or rather, demonic and ethereal being) this outstanding historic event. They weren’t exactly staying at the Ritz, but in Aziraphale’s old book store he had set up in Philadelphia during the times of the Revolutionary War, when he‘d spent a lot of time working towards a nation of hope and equality for all mankind. Seeing what the humans turned these ideas into over the turn of the next years and centuries had him return to London somewhat disenchanted, and Crowley had had some empathic and equally frustrated laughs at and with him.

But he made sure the book shop would continue under the care of an apt, and aptly named family, just in case. It had changed addresses, a couple of times, not to the better to be honest, and it‘s name, not to mention the changes in it‘s, well, dominant commodities, and thus it served now as a perfect hiding place no entity would ever suspect an angel and a demon living happily together for a couple of days (the current owner enjoying his luck in winning a week at the Ritz), sharing exquisite take-out food and good laughs at the faces humans made when they browsed through the shop’s vast movie section.

Crowley was even happier when he discovered the nearby landscaping firm, and while Aziraphale caught up on contemporary reading, he spent some beneficial hours with the owners, discussing English gardening trends versus American horticultural fashions.

Aziraphale frowned again at the hurly-burly yonder, disturbing the peace of the Saturday morning.

“Crowley, dear, is that of your kind intervention?”, he called back into the shop, making clear he had no doubt about the inclinations of the demon.

“‘m not kind, how often ‘m I to tell y’?”, growled said demon, and hugged his Angel from behind, placing his head gently on Aziraphale’s shoulder, so he could relish in the angel’s fair curls tickling his temple. His smug grin was radiating off him.

“So, would you care to explain your doings, dear? That seems to be an awful lot of people dressed not at all for gardening over there. And they’re putting up microphones and speakers as well. Did you plan for an impromptu rock concert? Though these suits certainly seem to listen to music other than your bebop.”

“Hmmmmh, y’ll see in no time. Just thought this election had been stretching it’s thrill way enough by now. Time for a final call.”

“You’re quite right, my dear, though I don’t see any connection with this desolated place. There aren’t even people _living_ out here. Only the dead resting over there in the crematorium.”

Crowley grinned even wider and placed a fond kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek. “You’ll see, Angel, you’ll see. There’s nothing mightier than hubris in a human to cause a fall from arrogance. Anyway, I ordered some Jambalaya. Feel peckish?“

The demon marvelled at the bright light he could spark in his Angel’s face with just these few words, and even more so in the blissful sighs Aziraphale wouldn’t care to suppress when confronted with cajun cuisine and later blueberry cobbler for dessert. Crowley on the other hand was preoccupied with suppressing his own content sighs while watching Aziraphale licking his fingers. These American specialities did serve two perfectly well, indeed.

They were just about to proceed to another course (waffles. Of course, waffles), when the speakers squeaked their existence known.

Aziraphale took two waffles with him, Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand, (temptations being a demon’s speciality, still) and they sauntered to the door.

Some hundred humans had gathered peacefully in the street outside the gate of the landscaping firm‘s parking lot, chatting muffled behind their masks, typing or talking into their phones. When the crowd were let inside, Aziraphale turned to face Crowley.

“Is this supposed to be a press conference?”, he demanded and was rewarded with Crowley’s most gleesome face.

“None of my doing if they don’t check on their venues properly before booking. Neither if they decide to pull through the whole farce. Look at the face of that lawyer. - Aaah, humans. Always reliable to mess things up by themselves.”

“I do like the stiff faces of these nicely dressed gentlemen in front of that garage door actually better. They’re just so - resigned.” He chewed on a bite of waffle, so Crowley wondered if it was this special recipe or his ingenuity that made his Angel’s face gleam with satisfaction. “Just listen to this hodgepode he’s whinging. His throat must have shriveled from all these false accusations and blatant lies. He‘s hoarse as anything.“ Aziraphale squinted over to his Demon in sly admiration. “You didn’t...?”

“Me? Never! It was all him. He might have had a good cathartic screaming when he found out about his bosses latest achievement in planning. And that guy was supposed to govern a whole country. Ah, here it comes!“

The crowd seemed to buzz even more, there was cheering and then suddenly about half of the people left in triumph, leaving the speakers rant on in this odd venue that now, half deserted, was even more phenomenally out of place for any big assembly of staff of an elected head of any respectable state. But it suited a des-elected liar and cheat perfectly.

Aziraphale beheld Crowley with the same gaze he‘d gifted him when he had his conjuring dove breathed back to life.

“Crowley, you ARE marvellous! That was BRILLIANT demonic planning! My dear demon, I‘m so proud of you.“

Demons don’t blush, so Crowley’s healthy colour of skin must‘ve been caused by the warm weather only.  
“No need to get into American phrases, really. ‘t wasn’t me anyway. Well, not much. Just called Adam to make sure the landscaping firm always had the name of a posh hotel. ‘t was all. Just wanted to enhance their business. Bit of free worldwide advertising, that’s all, really. Get them through the crisis. They were just ...”

He was cut off by Aziraphale cupping his cheeks and sealing his lips with a kiss affirmative of his adoration for his Demon. Crowley leaned in, of course. He chased a hint of blueberry still lingering on the angel‘s lips, dwelled upon his Angel‘s blissful sighs surpassing the ones for cobbler by lightyears. He moaned softly when Aziraphale withdrew his lips to shower him with more praise.

“Crowley, you are - thinking of these humans, you really are the nicest demon ...”

“‘m not nice, Angel. Never was.”

Crowley glowered at Aziraphale, the menacing part of this carefully composed look not emerging at all. Yet, his eyes twinkled mischievously.

“‘m a demon. You mightn’t have thought about it, but people will tell the tale of that last press outing for years, and they will mention the landscaping firm. AND the book shop. And hopefully customers will flood both.”

“You mean - ?” Aziraphale gasped, the romantic moment shattered by mercantile reality. ”Customers? In here? Wanting to BUY ... Crowley, how could you! You vile demon! Here, let me thwart you! More customers! You’re the most vicious demon indeed!”

Crowley still creased up with laughter long after he’d snapped them both back into the customer free safety of the Soho book store.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Ok, some facts:  
> I have been obsessed with the ingenuity of this extraordinary historical event ever since I read about it first. Come on, no human brain could have ever thought up a scenario more unlikely and embarrassing than that. Also, perfect timing really. That already fit so well into any concept of “ineffability”, and hey, the existence of a book shop next to a gardening firm really called for a GO version of reality. (The book shop’s name being ‘Fantasy Island’, conveniently summing up the state of mind of any person who might be planning to squat the White House. What a perfect twist in scripting reality, indeed.) To top it all, when I read that the book shop’s a family owned business and the current owner’s family name is, by all means, D’Angelo, and seems to sport a somewhat similar approach towards customers as Aziraphale, my mind finally and utterly went ping. 
> 
> I have no clue about the owners and staff of both FSTL and FIABS, and regarding former and current government officials I relied on news coverage, so this story is completely and utterly based on these scarce facts and my own imagination. I also twisted reality a bit, the final call for Biden was apparently released just before the start of the press conference, though the speakers seemed unaware of (or ignoring?) that fact, according to Richard Hall’s article.  
> Anyway:  
> No resemblance with living or dead people is or was intended,  
> and/or is utterly coincidental. 
> 
> If you like to check my sources, here you can copy and paste:  
> The tumblr post that made me laugh for hours:
> 
> https://redcurlzbychoice.tumblr.com/post/634509289106636800/im-still-laughing-so-hard-at-that-last-one-make
> 
> Richard Hall’s account of this memorable event in The Independent, Sun Nov 8th 2030
> 
> https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-election-2020/i-saw-donald-trump-s-presidency-come-crashing-down-at-four-seasons-total-landscaping-b1699962.html?amp
> 
> An article on the aftermath with a bit of information about the owner of Fantasy Island Adult Book Store. (Northeast Philly sex shop owner says business 'mobbed with customers' after Trump campaign presser)
> 
> https://www.phillyvoice.com/four-seasons-northeast-philly-sex-shop-fantasy-island-donald-trump-giuliani/
> 
> The Irish Daily Mirror on Tue Nov 5th sported the headline “Trump’s fraud claim: A liar and a cheat to the bitter end”. I just quoted them. 
> 
> https://redcurlzbychoice.tumblr.com/post/634173444850892800/simply-love-the-irish


End file.
